


Breathless

by SharkbaitSekki



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Accidents, Angst and Humor, BL students love and protect Dimitri in this house, Byleth the matchmaker, First Date Gone Wrong, Getting Together, Goddess Tower Meeting, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 09:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20758271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkbaitSekki/pseuds/SharkbaitSekki
Summary: Claude's been flirting with an oblivious Dimitri for several moons now, and it's only thanks to outside meddling from the entire Blue Lion House that Claude is finally able to encounter Dimitri atop the Goddess Tower to begin courting. It is, in theory, a solid choice for a first date, given that everything goes as planned.And of course, absolutely nothing goes as planned.





	Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my friend [levinduke](https://twitter.com/levinduke) 's Twitter request for "Goddess Tower DimiClaude". It was an extremely vague prompt, so I cannot be responsible for what it resulted in. I tried to be funny, I think? 
> 
> So anyway; no game spoilers, mostly wholesome, kinda hoesome DimiClaude content, with a near death experience for extra spicy good times. 99.8% canon compliant. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The musicians began to play the next waltz, and Claude tried to forget that outside the walls of Garreg Mach monastery, the world was near-literally on fire.

In the moment, of course, it was an easy thing to do. Memories of the horrifying events of Remire Village just a few weeks ago dissipated readily in the perfumed air of the ballroom, rising to hide in between the crystals of the chandeliers for the duration of this night, to come back to haunt the students of the Officers Academy only once the last note rang out. For now, the insecurity of current events and unknowns slid right off the students’ shoulders as they waltzed, falling to the floor and trampled by the lightfooted _1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, spin, and 1-2-3, 1_-

Claude was never one to turn down an opportunity to celebrate, but the wine he sipped felt a little bitter on his tongue in light of recent events. He hadn’t even been present during the Remire Village faceoff, but he’d been there when the survivors were brought back, and the haunted looks on their faces left him nauseous and unnerved. Hilda, whom the Professor had recruited for the mission, had knocked at Claude’s door in the middle of that night, and in a worrying show of true vulnerability, had requested to sleep with him to ward off her nightmares. The way she spoke of what she’d seen over there, Claude was nearly glad he had stayed behind.

Now, though, Hilda seemed to be having the time of her life. Claude watched her sway with some (un)lucky Black Eagle student who seemed both aroused and terrified by the words she was crooning against his ear, and figured that if she could put Remire behind her for tonight, so could he.

He downed his wine, and got up to find a partner to dance. He had someone in mind already, had him in his mind for several weeks now, and figured he’d start there. A quick sweep of the dance floor showed that his first choice was not present, though, so he glanced around for someone else.

His easiest second choice was Mercedes, considering that she was chatting with Annette at the buffet table not too far off, and although she accepted gracefully, Annette seemed much more excited by the invitation than Mercedes was. She nearly shoved both of them towards the dance floor, conspicuously whispering words of encouragement to her friend.

“You got this, Mercie!” she exclaimed, and Claude figured she was just wishing Mercedes good luck with her footwork.

She wasn’t that bad, though, not nearly deserving of Annette’s over-the-top cheering.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” Mercedes simply giggled as they swayed to the sound of the musicians’ strings. “I’m sure your final partner for the night will be the luckiest of all.”

Claude didn’t quite blush at that, but did avert his eyes. The look on her face spoke volumes about how much she knew about Claude.

“I’ll be the lucky one if it comes to that, to be honest,” he returned in what he hoped was a steady voice.

“Hmm.” Mercedes’ expression became gentler, and she eased them both into a halt before curtsying. “This was fun! You should dance with Ingrid next, trust me.”

“Trust you?” Claude scoffed, amused by her choice of words, and bowed to her. “Alright, I guess I have no choice, then.”

He did invite Ingrid, who seemed like she was ready to decline, but ultimately accepted to be pulled to the dance floor.

“I apologize in advance for if I step on your toes,” she mumbled awkwardly, not daring meet his eyes. For all her insecurity, though, she did dance rather well, and Claude especially appreciated how she consciously spun a little more gently as not to whip Claude’s face with her thick braid. “Umm… anyway. I hope you’ll be kind to the person you wish to dance most with. In fact…” Her face straightened out as she curtsied. “You’d best be kind with him, Claude von Riegan.”

“Umm… Okay, yeah.” Wholly confused and mildly terrified, Claude bowed to her and tried not to let her get to him. He must’ve been staring, because a heavy blush suddenly bloomed on her cheeks.

“Alright, alright! Forget what I said!” She whipped around, now nearly taking Claude’s head off with her hair. “Just go dance with Sylvain next, alright!?”

Alright it was, Claude supposed. Sylvain was a great dancer, elegant and coordinated, so dancing with him was actually a lot more fun than with his previous partners. His only complaint was that Sylvain kept pulling these random and vaguely threatening statements out at the most inopportune moments, wishing Claude good health in the near future for no obvious reason before dipping him to prevent a reply.

“I know I’m a heartbreaker, but that’s because one of us has to be,” he hummed as he dragged Claude into a more complex set of steps that made Claude focus more on his footwork than his reply. “I’ve got it covered, my good man, so you just stay honest with your partner, alright?”

“I’m so confused,” was all Claude was able to say before Sylvain led him into a series of spins that made him taste his wine in the back of his throat.

When he released him, Sylvain bowed to Claude with a self-satisfied grin, and pointed him towards the corner, where the young Fraldarius heir was glaring murder at the cucumber sandwich Ingrid had dropped in his palm.

“Alright, thanks for the dance! I’m off to charm some cute ladies now, so go dance with Felix!”

“Felix?” The concern must have reflected in Claude’s voice, for Sylvain just laughed.

“He’s expecting you, just go!” And, without losing a single second to idleness, Sylvain whipped around, and complimented the student right behind them on the smell of her hair.

Walking hesitantly towards Felix, Claude wondered if the Blue Lions had consumed wine before showing up to the ball, because every single one of them seemed to be behaving strangely tonight. And if Felix was expecting him, for a dance, of all things, well, that was just the sweet pea on top of the saghert and cream.

Thankfully, Felix discounted the ‘Blue Lions pre-drinks’ theory brewing in Claude’s mind when, within a second of Claude stepping in his general vicinity, he whipped his head up and glared murder at him.

“Don’t say a single word,” he threatened, and Claude relaxed, because this was just routine. “No, I will not dance with you, so don’t even ask. Sylvain only sent you my way because I need to make it clear that I will gladly slice you up like the cold cuts on that buffet table if you ever end up hurting your partner.”

“I don’t have a partner.” Claude blinked rapidly, trying to wake himself up from this lucid dream he was surely having. To be holding this conversation with Felix Hugo Fraldarius made him reconsider trashing the ‘Blue Lions pre-drinks’ theory.

“Shut up, that’s none of my business. Just respect and cherish him, or whatever, alright?”

“Him?” Claude asked, voice high-pitched in an increasingly desperate attempt to gain a clue about whatever the hell all the Blue Lions were in on.

“Him,” Felix just deadpanned, and then shoved the whole cucumber sandwich in his mouth to avoid talking to Claude any longer.

Claude walked off, nearly feeling dizzy.

Not a moment’s reprieve, however, as finally, finally, Byleth slid up to him, and tapped him on the shoulder to invite him to dance.

Claude numbly let Byleth pull him to the dance floor, glad to let the other man lead their dance- barely more than a sway, considering Byleth’s atrocious dancing skill.

“Are you going to threaten me with bodily harm in an increasingly creative fashion too, Teach?” he chuckled, although his voice felt a little weak.

“Not quite,” Byleth assured him, and Claude only marginally felt better.

“What’s your piece, then?” Claude asked, glad to be a little further away from the music so they could talk in private.

“I’m simply checking in on you,” Byleth said. “I saw you glancing around the dance floor all night before you got up to dance with Mercedes. Were you looking for someone in particular?”

“Well…” Claude risked a glance at Byleth, and locked eyes with his unreadable expression. It made him feel tiny and exposed. “Yeah… yeah, I guess I was.”

“And he is not here, correct?”

“Well, he, or she!” Claude tried to gain the upper hand by throwing in a bit of mystery, but the small smile that twitched at the corner of Byleth’s lips made him deflate immediately, defeated. “Okay, fine, he.”

“I’ve been noticing something over the past few moons, as well,” Byleth continued, unfazed. They twirled once, just for show. “The shopkeepers tell me you’ve been spending a lot of money on gifts recently. Chamomile tea, flowers, and… riding boots, I believe.”

“Teach, stop,” Claude groaned, elongating his last syllable to cut Byleth off. He felt his face heat up at the path this conversation was taking. “I know you know, so come on… stop teasing me already.”

“It’s Dimitri, isn’t it?” Byleth smiled at him gently, properly this time, and just the sound of his name made something swell in Claude’s heart.

“Yeah, it’s him.” The buildup to this moment finally eased, and the tension released. Claude finally felt like he could look the Professor in the eyes and return the gentle smile. “Guess I wasn’t subtle at all.”

“Well, it’s mostly because Dimitri went around asking the Blue Lions every week if it was one of them who left the flowers at his doorstep in the morning,” Byleth shrugged, an awkward movement in their current, interlaced position. “It became nearly painful to watch him try and figure it out on his own for so long. It occupied so much of his time, and ours, that Sylvain called it an extracurricular activity.”

Claude snorted at that and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well… what can I say. I only go for the brightest of the bunch.”

“I would like to emphasize that both myself and the Blue Lions condone your courtship of Dimitri, so you need not worry too much about that.” Byleth said all that with a straight face, and Claude seriously wondered if he was even human. His own face felt like it was on the receiving end of one of Lysithea’s fireballs.

“Hey, quick question, Teach… Can you please just let me die?” he groaned, dipping his head against Byleth’s chest, and feeling the man’s voice rumble with light laughter. “This is no laughing matter, good sir! Does this seriously mean that every Blue Lion except Dimitri knows that I’m into Dimitri?”

“Not quite,” Byleth patted his arm for comfort, then pulled him to a stop. Around them, people continued to dance, laugh, and talk, but Byleth looked at Claude with such intensity in his gaze that it nearly seemed to freeze time. “But Claude, one last question. Regarding Dimitri.”

“It can’t get worse than this, I guess,” Claude sighed, and nodded. “Throw it at me.”

“Do you love Dimitri?” Byleth asked, and the simplicity of the statement made Claude nearly choke up with emotion.

He didn’t know the answer to that question, not right now. But Claude loved challenges, and loved challenging the unknowns around him, so he nodded anyway, strongly, resolutely.

“I think I could love him, Teach.”

“I see.” Giving him one last smile, Byleth pulled away entirely. The mood completely changed as music filtered back into the space between them, making everything seem much lighter and inconsequential. Claude remained standing with his heart beating harshly against his ribs, waiting on Byleth for guidance once more.

Stepping away, Byleth waved to him.

“Come walk with me, Claude.”

With nothing left to lose, not even his dignity, apparently, Claude followed the Professor, and they exited the ballroom under the incredibly conspicuous stares of the Blue Lion students.

Outside, the air felt different from the ballroom, and as the sound of music faded off into the night, Claude felt himself become more sober, in all senses of the term. He breathed in deep, letting the cool autumn breeze chill the sweat off his forehead, and ran his hands through his hair.

“Man, that feels good,” he whispered, reticent to disturb the tranquility of the monastery grounds. He stretched, and then turned to Byleth, who was waiting for him patiently. “So, where to, Teach?”

“Let’s take a stroll,” Byleth simply suggested, and Claude found no reason to refuse.

He found Byleth’s silence soothing, with zero expectations to fill it with mindless chatter. The two of them just walked, and Claude simply listened to the song of crying cicadas and to the drag of their shoes in dewy grass. Byleth didn’t seem like he was just strolling- in fact, Claude could immediately tell that there was purpose in his step, but he trusted the Professor with his life (sort of) and just let him lead them on.

It became abundantly clear where they were headed, however, when they exited north of the reception hall, and Claude felt the tension return to his limbs slowly but surely as they crossed the bridge to the cathedral.

“So… Teach,” Claude broke the silence with a lighthearted voice, now simply amused by the huge scheme that the Blue Lions had apparently concocted for this night. “Any chance wherever we’re headed starts with a ‘T’ and ends with ‘ower’?”

“Maybe so,” Byleth said, face impassable, although he was clearly leading the two of them to the Goddess Tower when he veered left at the entrance. Claude just laughed, and knew he was right when the two of them walked towards Dedue, who was attempting to hide in the shadows cast by the wall in the moonlight.

“There are no other students left near the Goddess Tower,” Dedue reported dutifully as Byleth approached. “Ashe and I surveyed the compound.”

“Wow, thanks for that,” Claude whistled appreciatively, though he figured he should probably have stayed quiet when Dedue whipped around to face him, expression set sternly.

“And you, Claude von Riegan,” he addressed him fiercely, eyes blazing. “Know that I am eternally pledged to His Highness’ wellbeing, and that I will be watching you.”

“Okay,” Claude awkwardly elongated the first syllable, choosing to look elsewhere than at the lightning bolts in Dedue’s eyes. “So, uhh… we moving on to the Tower, or what?”

“Thank you for your help, Dedue,” Byleth simply dismissed the tall boy, and started walking away. Claude waved reassuringly to Dedue, and ran to catch up.

The Goddess Tower stretched up into the sky, bathed in moonlight and sparkling under the stars. Claude knew that ordinarily, there would be many students here, hoping to get a turn at climbing the steps to the top of the Tower to make their wish, but somehow, the area was completely empty. It must’ve been Dedue’s and the Professor’s joint efforts that cleared the hopeful students away.

“I can’t believe you abused your authority to score me a date with Dimitri, Teach…” Claude groaned at the realization, and only felt more embarrassed when a twinkle of mischief glinted in Byleth’s gaze under the moonlight. “You’re the worst.”

“Not if I am your ally,” Byleth simply answered to that, and Claude couldn’t say he was wrong.

Byleth opened the heavy door to the Tower once they arrived, the wood creaking heavily on unoiled hinges and likely alerting the entire continent that Claude was on his way up the Goddess Tower. At least, that’s how it felt, with his heartbeat becoming louder and louder in his ears the further up he climbed. The climb itself was long, meant to be challenging for both parties meeting at the top (or in this case, the several parties), but Claude barely felt it. In fact, when he reached the top of the stairs and met face to face with Ashe, he suddenly became breathless for different reasons than physical exertion.

Namely, he suddenly felt frozen in place at the sight of the plain wooden door in front of him, the last hurdle he had to clear before, well… he didn’t know, actually. And the thought of the unknown behind that door left him with a bit of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, although it was an anxiety that spurred him on.

“Everything’s set up in there,” Ashe informed the Professor in a soft voice, as if he, too, was afraid of disturbing the sanctity of the silence surrounding the Goddess Tower. “Claude…” Ashe then turned his bright smile at him, and Claude didn’t even need to hear his words to know that he was being threatened- again.

“Make sure both of you enjoy tonight just as much. We wouldn’t want to have a problem, I’m sure.”

Mentally, Claude head-counted the top students of the Blue Lion house, and breathed a sigh of relief when he concluded that Ashe would be the last threat he’d encounter.

Unless Dimitri threatened him, too, in which case, well… Well…

Claude just sighed.

“No worries, little man. Thanks for everything.” Ashe moved to the side so that Claude could squeeze past him in the narrow passageway, and with a hand on the doorknob, Claude turned to glance down at Byleth. “Professor… you too. Thanks for this.”

“Go enjoy yourself,” Byleth nodded, and even the obscurity didn’t quite manage to mask the exasperated fondness in his eyes. “I’ll be downstairs to keep watch.”

“Sweet.” With nothing else holding him back, Claude ran one last hand through his hair, and, hoping he hadn’t just disheveled himself completely, walked into the top of the tower.

The door closed behind him with a soft creak, clicking shut and isolating him from the outside world. Claude took a deep breath and glanced around the small circular room, studying its details under the bright moonlight flooding in through the large window.

Perhaps the first thing his eye caught was the setup in the center of the room; two seating cushions on the floor and a large tray between them, steam rising from it and curling in the air amongst the dust floating in the light. It was a simple setup, but betrayed an effort that could not have been just one man’s. Now, Ashe’s involvement was made a little clearer to Claude.

Then, finally, Claude lifted his eyes away from the setup on the stone floor, and up until he saw shoes, and legs, and then a man standing in the darkness.

The thought struck him that if this wasn’t Dimitri, Claude would throw himself out of the window in shame.

But when the shadowy figure stepped into the light, his golden hair sparkling like a halo, Claude knew he had nothing to fear.

“Dimitri,” he greeted, and it felt like a huge load had fallen away from his heart.

Dimitri simply stared at him for a second, and then smiled, his expression bright, but tame, as if he was overjoyed but too overwhelmed to express it all.

“You know,” Dimitri finally spoke, wringing his hands nervously in front of him. “If the person that walked in here just now wasn’t you, I was contemplating throwing myself out of the window in shame.”

“Guess neither of us have to worry about that anymore,” Claude laughed, and Dimitri laughed too, likely because the nervousness began to melt away.

The laughter died down slowly, comfortably, and their eyes turned to one another again when they fell silent. Only the distant sound of trees rustling in the breeze filled the air, and for a moment, alone so high up and away from the rest of the world, the two of them felt like they had entered a place where nobody would find them, a space just for them. The smell of something spiced wafted towards Claude, his heart lurching when a feeling of nostalgia came with it.

And Dimitri… Well, Claude could only describe Dimitri as breathtaking. On a regular day, there was something inexplicably attractive about the Prince of Faerghus, but here, under the midnight moon in the Goddess Tower, Dimitri looks ethereal.

Blonde hair, pulled back and tucked behind his ear on one side, left his eyes free of obstruction so that Claude could see how they sparkled with mirth in the light. His body still looked a little tense, but he was only fidgeting with his clothes for a lack of knowing what else to do with his hands, it seemed. He had cleaned up nicely, too, having changed since Claude last saw him waltzing next to Edelgard at the ball. Now, he wore a simpler outfit, a navy blue shirt with gold embroidery and a black sleeveless vest that pulled his clothes tightly against his waist, accentuating the dip of his lower back. The material of his shirt looked light and silky, puffy sleeves flowing to pool around his elbows, and his cuffs adjusted to leave his wrists bare, likely to accentuate the paleness of his skin in contrast to the palette of his clothes. His pants were tailored to fit only him, from the looks of it, black and form-fitting around his thighs, to then tuck into knee-height boots. It was a simple outfit, more fitting for leisure than a midnight meeting at the Goddess Tower, but Claude drank in the softness of the picture before him, and let out a soft sigh of appreciation.

“You’re beautiful tonight,” he murmured, his gaze leaving Dimitri’s body to instead refocus on his face, and he was pleased to see him smile, the last of his nervousness seeming to ebb away.

“As are you, Claude.” Dimitri’s cheeks were dusted a subtle pink, either from emotion or liquid courage, and Claude boldly thought, with a spike in his heart rate, that he would likely be able to taste lingering wine on his tongue if he were to confirm.

“Thanks for setting this up,” Claude continued, keeping his voice low as if not to disturb the comfortable atmosphere that had settled around them. “This is a lot of effort. Usually, people just show up here and stand around.”

“I intended to keep it simple, to be frank with you, but the Professor would not allow it,” Dimitri admitted sheepishly. “He insisted that me coming to terms with my feelings, in his own words, was something not to be taken lightly. And so, he enlisted Ashe to prepare a midnight snack tray for us here.”

“It wasn’t just Ashe he enlisted…” Claude commented offhandedly, drawing a look of alarm from his partner.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing,” Claude waved him off, stepping towards the cushions. The two of them were strategically placed side by side, which Claude appreciated, because now was certainly not the time for Dimitri to get confused by his own feelings. “Shall we sit? I see you have prepared tea as well, so we should enjoy it before it goes cold.”

“Yes, let’s,” Dimitri nodded. “After you.”

The two of them sat next to one another on the cushions, and when Claude’s arm brushed Dimitri’s chest in his move to get more comfortable, he realized just how close they were. His heart beat in his throat, but he loved the feeling of it, and from the looks of his flushed cheeks, Dimitri was in the same predicament.

“It smells nice,” he complimented, watching Dimitri pour tea for both of them. The aroma of pine needles wafted towards him, and he wondered if Dimitri had taken a lucky guess at his favourite tea. Probably not. “This tea’s as pretty good as it gets.”

“I am glad you like it,” Dimitri hummed, and in his proximity, Claude nearly felt the rumble of his deep voice in his chest, and tried really hard not to swoon. “The Professor went above and beyond with the snacks. He had spices imported with the help of House Goneril so that Ashe could prepare traditional Almyran baked goods for us.”

“Wow, what am I going to owe him after this?” Claude chuckled, picking up his cup of tea when Dimitri offered it to him, content with just smelling the sharp scent of pine needles for now.

“Whatever you owe him, I shall owe twice as much,” Dimitri sighed, and drank some of his tea. “I have never seen him so relieved than when I finally admitted to him that I liked you. I think… he was exasperated by the time it took me to reach that conclusion.”

“You like me?” Claude teased him, entirely enjoying the flush of embarrassment that crept onto the bridge of Dimitri’s thin nose.

“Claude,” Dimitri admonished jokingly. “Please tell me this is not news to you.”

“You like me,” Claude hummed again, just because he enjoyed saying it and hearing himself say it. “Good news, your Princeliness. Don’t tell anyone, but I like you, too.”

“I am sure that the entirety of the Blue Lion house knows by now, so I apologize for that. Please tell me if they try to harass you about it,” Dimitri winced visibly, which only made Claude more endeared. “And please, just call me Dimitri, especially when we are alone.”

“Let’s just say that I understand how much you mean to them, Dimitri.” Claude sipped his tea, noting that it was brewed not to be too strong, just the way he liked it. Fantastic. “In any case. This has been such a pleasant surprise. I never imagined I would find myself in the Goddess Tower with the Prince of Faerghus.”

“You did not?” Dimitri asked curiously, sipping his tea and nibbling on something that resembled a biscuit of some sort. “You had feelings for me first, did you not?”

“Arguably, you liked me since the day you met me, but just didn’t know it. After all, I’m really hard not to like, right?” Claude joked, setting his hand down on Dimitri’s thigh. The shiver than ran under his palm was nearly as delicious as his tea. “Come on, Dima. Be honest.”

“You really have no concept of self-restraint, do you?” Dimitri rolled his eyes, finishing his snack. “Where does that diminutive even come from?”

“Don’t worry too much about it. I think it sounds cute.”

“Claude, I am not cute.”

“I beg to differ.”

“You are insufferable,” Dimitri chuckled, and turned to face Claude with his amused expression. And Claude turned as well, so that for a moment, as they both fell silent, their gazes crossed, and in their proximity, Claude caught himself staring at Dimitri’s lips again. Pink and warmed by tea, they seemed to call across the space between them, and Claude chewed on his own lip as he suddenly imagined himself kissing them.

He wanted to, so badly.

“I… I never thanked you for the flowers,” Dimitri murmured, and Claude watched his lips form the words in a near-trance. “It took me far too many moons to realize that they were from you, therefore I apologize for taking so long to return your advances.”

“It’s fine,” Claude dismissed him quickly, eyes flickering over his lips a second longer before moving up to the blue of his eyes. He didn’t know which part of Dimitri he wanted to admire most. “We’re here now, and that’s enough for me.”

“Still… I also am ashamed of how little I appreciated the intent behind your gifts.” Dimitri grabbed another snack off the tray, and Claude’s heart stuttered as he watched him nibble on it, catching crumbs with the tip of his tongue. “The riding boots especially. I should have known you did not just have them lying around, as you claimed. The timing was much too convenient for you to have gifted them to me right after my own pair lost a sole.”

“Mhm,” Claude muttered, his tongue wetting his lips when they suddenly felt dry, mimicking the motion of Dimitri’s. 

“And in retrospect, asking me to dine with you at least once a week… that was one of your schemes, too, was it not?”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a scheme…” Claude answered, although his eyes stayed frozen on Dimitri’s face.

“Claude…?”

“Hmm?”

“You are staring.”

Snapping out of his trance, Claude glanced at Dimitri’s expression, his heart dropping when he realized he was frowning.

“I’m sorry, Dima,” he quickly apologized, taking a sip of his tea with both hands to cover up his embarrassment. Dimitri shifted when his hand left his thigh, pressing a little closer to Claude to make up for the loss. “I was just…”

“… Lost in thought?” Dimitri completed for him, sighing softly. He stared into his own teacup before setting it down. “That is alright. I apologize if I bored you with my rambling.”

“No, not at all!” Quick to correct his mistake, Claude set his teacup down and put his hands on Dimitri’s knees. Dimitri glanced at his hands, but not at his face. “I’m sorry. Hey, come on. Turn around and look at me.”

Dimitri sighed again, but wordlessly complied, shuffling to turn around so that he and Claude sat cross-legged facing each other, knees brushing. Claude rubbed his hands lightly on Dimitri’s knees, then trailed them slightly up his thighs.

“What are we doing here, Claude?” Dimitri finally asked, in the first real show of insecurity since they met. “I find myself infatuated with you, and dare hope you return the sentiment, but… there is still a gap between us that I cannot seem to cross.”

“Dimitri, please don’t look so heartbroken,” Claude assured him, taking his hands off his thighs to instead reach for Dimitri’s hands, curled into fists in his lap. Dimitri did not object when Claude gently took them, uncurling his fingers and rubbing his thumbs over his knuckles. “I fancy you, too. I promise you that. And the only problem is, I don’t know what to do with myself around you.”

“You truly mean that?” Dimitri asked, lifting his head to meet Claude’s gaze. He didn’t last long, and immediately dropped his eyes back to their joint hands. “You are one of the most eligible bachelors at Garreg Mach, Claude. I am grateful, truly, but… I do not understand why you have chosen me out of everyone else.”

“Well… I’m not eligible if I’ve already got my sights set on someone, right?” Claude reassured him. “Come on, don’t mope, Your Princeliness. I don’t want anyone else. Right now, before the Goddess, it’s your hands I’m holding and nobody else’s, aren’t I?”

“I wonder how the Goddess feels about that. About us, eloping together into her Tower, of all places,” Dimitri joked, finally curling his hands around Claude’s. The scratch of his weapon-callused palms on Claude’s fingers made a shiver run down his spine. With hot tea in his belly and the close proximity of someone he cherished, Claude felt warmer than ever, his nerves hyper-sensitive to Dimitri’s touch. “I am certain she would have a few choice words for us.”

“Blessings only, I’d wager,” Claude chuckled, and looked up. Following his movement, Dimitri looked up as well, and this time, they upheld one another’s gaze. “I’m sure she’s happy we finally pulled our act together.”

“Do you believe she will grant our wish, in that case?” Dimitri prompted, taking the lead and shifting their hands so that their fingers tangled together instead. In the moonlight, his eyes glinted brightly, and with the near-permanent blush on his cheekbones, he truly painted the picture of boyish innocence. It was a good look, Claude surmised, for someone as haunted as Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.

“I believe she will,” he whispered confidently, his body leaning in, just to take a closer look at Dimitri’s eyes, just to feel his breath running across his jaw.

“Go ahead and make your wish, then, Claude von Riegan,” Dimitri murmured, following the trajectory of Claude’s body and leaning in as well, so that as the night sky stretched above them, they moved like colliding stars and met one another in a brilliant supernova of blues and gold.

“I wish I could kiss you,” Claude breathed against Dimitri’s lips, and did just that.

He kissed Dimitri chastely at first, but lingered, his heart beating madly and begging him not to pull away. Dimitri’s hands tightened around his, and he shifted just a little, just enough to indicate that he felt the same gravity that Claude felt in the space where they’d collided.

Breaking the seal for a quick breath, Claude leaned right back in, this time undoing his hands to instead cradle Dimitri’s face. His eyes were closed, so he couldn’t see it anymore, but his thumbs caressed the spot high on Dimitri’s cheekbones where he remembered his charming blush being. His skin felt hot, and Claude could simply not quench his thirst like this.

They broke away again for breath, and this time, Dimitri was the one who breathed out a gasp before leaning in, reaching for Claude’s waist to pull him close. Making it a little easier for him, Claude shuffled onto his knees, and nudged his crossed legs apart gently with a tap on each thigh. They broke off for breath, and Dimitri took the opportunity to maneuver Claude closer, until he was kneeling between his parted legs. The grip on Claude’s waist tightened, and Claude planted both of his palms on Dimitri’s chest to slow his descent as he dove in for another kiss.

With the added proximity, it became easy to nudge Dimitri’s lips open, and Dimitri gave in immediately, letting Claude tilt his head and kiss him a little more passionately. A violent shiver ran up Claude’s spine as Dimitri’s hands ran up his sides, and he let out a pleasantly surprised gasp against Dimitri’s mouth that joined with the sound of rustling clothes to create a symphony for the Goddess to behold.

“Guess my wish did come true,” Claude panted softly when they broke away, only barely, just enough to catch their breath. Dimitri’s hands never left his waist.

“You did not need the Goddess to grant you that one,” Dimitri chuckled, stealing a kiss from Claude while they both still recovered, and then putting one hand up to caress his jaw, rubbing his thumb on the corner of his lips. “Pick a better wish.”

“You’re making it a little difficult for me to think right now,” Claude joked, leaning heavily against Dimitri and throwing his arms loosely around his neck. He pecked his brow once, then the tip of his nose, and finally the corner of his mouth, and drew back just enough to lock eyes with him. “How about I get back to the Goddess with that wish?”

“Of course. Just… Is there a possibility for us to stop mentioning the Goddess while we get handsy in her Tower?” Dimitri rolled his eyes, and kissed Claude’s cheek, eliciting a surprised giggle from the latter. “I fear the Church might condemn us both should they learn of what transpired here.”

“They don’t need to know,” Claude continued to giggle as Dimitri’s lips tickled him, trailing kisses down his jaw and his neck, and having to stop where his high collar covered the bump of his throat. He felt Dimitri smile against his skin, and wondered if this was as happy as he could get.

When Dimitri went back towards Claude’s lips, Claude closed his eyes and met him halfway again, this time directly delving in with his mouth open. Dimitri moved a bit to sit up on his knees as well, and Claude followed the undulation of his body to press himself closer, and ultimately kneel over Dimitri’s lap. The inside of his thighs rubbed against Dimitri’s pants, and in response, one of Dimitri’s hands snaked up into Claude’s hair to tangle within the short strands, and tug him closer.

Dimitri was the one who let out a soft noise at that, one that Claude swallowed greedily. He flicked his tongue at Dimitri’s palate, and reveled when he tasted the spice of whatever Almyran pastry Dimitri had eaten earlier, drawing back to bite Dimitri’s lower lip.

“You’re spicy,” he panted to catch his breath, feeling his chest tighten at the lack of air. “And delicious.”

“Ah, uhh… Thank you, I suppose,” Dimitri stuttered, as if he didn’t realize that he tasted like anything. Claude left that thought for another day, and dove back in.

This time, his fingers found their place in Dimitri’s golden strands, and Claude indulged in messing up his carefully styled hair as he’d wanted to do the second he laid eyes on Dimitri. He pulled on one side of his hair to tilt his head and Dimitri allowed him to, now much less shy in deepening the kiss as much as possible. He seemed not to know what to do with his hands anymore, one of them looped around Claude to clutch at his shirt between his shoulder blades, and the other resting against his throat. Claude licked once more into his mouth, leaving Dimitri chasing after him, then drew back, gently taking Dimitri’s hand off his throat.

“Hold on there, Dima,” he chuckled breathlessly. “Are you trying to make sure I can’t breathe?”

“Not at all.” Despite his words, Dimitri bridged the gap again, insatiably claiming a few more kisses before Claude broke away again, panting.

“Oh man, you make me breathless,” he huffed out heavily, tilting his neck back to both open up his airway and give Dimitri access to kiss at this neck again. While Claude tried to catch his breath, he caressed Dimitri’s hair, and delightedly pressed him close.

“Your heartbeat is so loud, Claude,” Dimitri mumbled, putting one hand against Claude’s chest. “You make me feel so alive.”

Claude tried to laugh at his cheesy statement, but all that came out was a wheeze.

That caught Dimitri’s attention, and he drew back, holding Claude at arm’s length.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he watched Claude pant.

“Yeah, uhh…” Claude wheezed again, trying to swallow and finding it difficult. “Wow, I… I guess I’m really taken by you… I can’t…” He let out a short cough. “I can’t… breathe…?”

“What?” Slightly alarmed, Dimitri snapped back into a serious expression, grasping Claude by the shoulders. “What’s happening? Are you feeling sick?”

“No, just…” Claude sat back on his knees, bending his waist a little to help himself breathe. He massaged his throat with one hand and found it to be rather tender. “Uhh, Dimitri. Quick question. No big deal, but…” he took a whistling breath in, and then a cough out. “… What was in the pastries Ashe made?”

“I- I’m not sure…” Dimitri blinked rapidly, trying to remember. “I think he said it was just flour, eggs, milk and sugar… And the spices, uhh… nutmeg? Cinnamon? Cloves, too, I think?”

“Dima,” Claude choked out, urgently grabbing Dimitri’s hand and squeezing tightly as his every breath began to whistle. “I’m allergic to cinnamon.”

“Oh no.” It was all that Dimitri had time to say before Claude completely doubled over, gasping loudly for breath.

And beneath the moonlight, under the Goddess’ watchful eye, on the very grounds of the sacred Goddess Tower, Dimitri put his arms around Claude and swore loudly.

“Come on, Claude,” he urged, trying to help his choking companion move. “Get up, we must get you medical assistance!”

“Try-” Claude couldn’t even finish before he lapsed into a violent coughing fit, clutching instinctively at his throat as it swelled and closed up. Dimitri tried to help him to his feet but the lack of oxygen made him light headed and unsteady on his feet, so he stumbled as soon as he moved off his knees.

“Fine! I’m sorry in advance for this,” Dimitri apologized needlessly, and with the situational adrenaline bringing out not only his natural strength but also the power of his Crest, he bent down and effortlessly scooped Claude up into his arms. Claude didn’t even react, his body continuing to jerk violently as he fought for every breath that rattled into his lungs. The last glimpse of his face that Dimitri caught in the moonlight showed that his tan skin had lost some of its colour, rapidly turning pale.

Dimitri did not even give himself time to think before throwing the door open and clutching Claude’s spasming body tightly against him as he descended the stairs of the Goddess Tower.

The descent felt like forever. With every twist of the staircase, Dimitri prayed that it would be the last, but the stairs seemed to go on forever. He briefly considered it to be divine punishment for having desecrated the holy grounds of the Goddess Tower, but Dimitri knew for a fact that he and Claude were not the worst of the Goddess Tower visitors in the past, and he’d never heard of anyone dying here beforehand.

He felt so stupid, overlooking something as trivial as a food allergy. And slowly, as Claude’s strength began to leave him, his long limbs began to still, and eventually his head dropped limply against Dimitri’s heaving chest.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, either.

“No, no, no,” he murmured, hoping, praying that he wouldn’t be too late. He could still hear Claude’s desperate, hoarse gasps, but he had surely lost consciousness, which bode very poorly for him. “Please, please…” Dimitri begged to whichever deity could mercifully take pity on him at the present moment. “Please, don’t let him die, please.”

And, the deity answered, for on the next turn of the stairs, Dimitri finally saw the door.

He barreled into it with such force that it swung open loudly, the screech of its hinges ringing out deafeningly across the empty cathedral courtyard.

“Professor!” he cried out in desperation, and sprinted across the small bridge towards the cathedral.

“Dimitri?” Byleth’s urgent voice rose in the air, and in the next moment, his Professor was at his side. “What happe- Is that Claude?”

“He’s not breathing, Professor!” Dimitri explained urgently, his voice shaking as his grip turned white on Claude. “He’s- He’s allergic, to the pastries, he just passed out, I… I don’t know-”

“Dimitri, breathe.” It was ironic enough, but when Byleth put his hands on Claude and activated a basic healing spell, Dimitri forced himself to breathe. Distantly, he was aware that his entire body was shaking with the adrenaline of having run down half a dozen flights of stairs, but all he could think of was the limp boy in his arms, the boy he wanted by his side forever, the boy he’d just now found, and the boy he couldn’t bear to lose like everybody else he’d ever lost.

“Please, Professor,” he begged weakly, leaning his cheek against Claude’s rapidly cooling forehead and squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t lose him. Not him, too. “Please, you have to save him.”

“I’ve stopped his airways from further swelling, but I can’t do much more. He needs to be seen by Manuela immediately,” Byleth said, taking his hands away. “Can you run, Dimitri? Go to the infirmary. I will fetch Manuela.”

“Of course, Professor,” Dimitri nodded shakily, already breaking into a jog. “Thank you!”

Saving his breath to run, Dimitri tried not to bounce Claude too much as he and Byleth crossed the bridge back to the main monastery grounds, and split up at the reception hall- Byleth towards the sound of festivities, and Dimitri, up the stairs towards the infirmary. In his arms, Claude remained limp, but he still continued to wheeze, which was the only comfort Dimitri had as he rushed across the empty corridors. 

As always, the infirmary remained unlocked, even in the absence of its owner, so Dimitri slammed his body against the infirmary door as well, dimly hoping he didn’t break anything as he finally slowed down next to the first stretcher he found, and laid Claude down. Claude’s limbs flopped limply on the bed, and in the magical lamplight, his skin glowed so pale, it frightened Dimitri.

“I beg of you,” he pleaded, dropping to his knees next to the bed and clutching Claude’s hand tightly. “Please, please stay alive. Please, Claude… Please, don’t die…”

He trembled and he gasped and he prayed, but Dimitri did not cry. He refused to cry, even if every fiber of his being pushed him to mourn the young man on the bed.

Claude wasn’t dead yet, and Dimitri refused to grieve for the living. He had enough grief to bear with the dead already. He had to believe that Claude would not join their ranks- not today.

The Professor arrived quickly afterwards, dragging a breathless Manuela behind him. Manuela must have been briefed already, for she approached Claude without a word and immediately put one hand on his throat, and another on his chest.

“Professor,” she called out, her voice stern and serious. “In the cabinet against the wall, in the first drawer, hand me the syringe with the yellow label. Then, from the second drawer, I need the face mask with the balloon attached to it.”

Byleth snapped to follow orders, jogging to the cabinet and rummaging through the drawers.

“Professor Manuela,” Dimitri looked up to her, dreading how sweat began to bead on her brow. “Please, tell me he will be alright.”

“Dimitri, I’ll do everything I can to save his life. You have to trust me on this,” Manuela simply answered, which left a huge, gnawing pit of terror in Dimitri’s stomach. His hands began to shake around Claude’s limp fingers.

He didn’t move when Byleth arrived at the bedside, dropping everything that Manuela needed next to her. Manuela expertly uncapped the syringe and jammed the thick needle into Claude’s thigh, straight through his clothes, just as Manuela’s primary nurse arrived running into the infirmary. The physician began to give her orders, half of them in terminology Dimitri didn’t understand, but anyway, most of the sounds around him seemed muted. All Dimitri could focus on was the wheezing of Claude’s shallow breathing, and the feel of the thready pulse on his wrist.

“Dimitri,” Byleth called, and then touched his shoulder gently when the young man didn’t answer. “Dimitri, we should go. Let’s leave Manuela to her work.”

“Professor, what if he…?” Dimitri trailed off, feeling his heart drop in his chest. His blood rushed in his ears violently, muting the next order that Manuela barked entirely. The nurse came back with several more syringes in her hand, and Dimitri felt sick.

It must have shown on his face, because Byleth grabbed his bicep and pulled him up.

“Come on, Dimitri. We shouldn’t be here while they work,” he prompted, his expression truly blank as he glanced at Claude’s pale face. “Dimitri. Let’s go.”

“I… I’ll be back for you, Claude,” Dimitri promised shakily, taking in one last sight of his lover’s pale skin, closed eyes, and bloodless lips before he ripped his hand away from Claude, and stalked out of the infirmary with Byleth following closely.

Outside, Byleth closed the door, completely muting the sounds of action inside the infirmary, which felt like a blessing as Dimitri’s ears began to ring in the silence. Strength suddenly wearing off as the adrenaline left his body in a flash, he stumbled back against the wall, and slid down to sit on the floor to let his body shake the fear away. He didn’t register that Byleth slipped off until he had returned, draping a heavy woven blanket over his shoulders and sitting down in front of him. Dimitri clutched the blanket around himself tightly, grateful for the grounding weight of it on him, and wordlessly buried his face into his knees.

Eventually, the adrenaline drop ran its course, and the tremors in Dimitri’s limbs left their place to simple exhaustion. Pulling his head up from where it was buried, he noticed that Byleth was still sitting in front of him, watching him intently, not having said a single word.

“Professor,” he whimpered, his voice choking in his throat. “If Claude dies…”

“He will not,” Byleth assured him so firmly that Dimitri had no choice but to believe him. Something about the set of his shoulders and the years behind his eyes led Dimitri to believe that he could be nothing but right. “No matter what it takes, no matter what must be sacrificed… I promise you that Claude will live.”

“It was…” Dimitri cleared his throat, eyes downcast. “It was my fault… I should have… Asked, or… inquired with the kitchen, or…”

“Dimitri,” Byleth interrupted his self-sabotaging train of thought. “It was an accident. An unfortunate accident. None of the blame lies on you, and when Claude wakes, I’m certain he’ll say the same to you.”

“I ruined such a perfect night for him,” Dimitri moped, leading Byleth to let out a soft sigh.

“Then just make it up to him when he wakes.” Getting up, he offered his hand to Dimitri, who glanced up at him reverently for guidance, as he always had and always would. “Now come, Dimitri. You’re exhausted, too. Rest now, and we can return to visit him tomorrow morning.”

Wordlessly, Dimitri took his hand, and, blanket wrapped around his shoulders still, he followed Byleth towards the dorms, trying not to feel like he was leaving Claude behind.

…-…-…-…

In the morning, as promised, Byleth came to retrieve him, although he insisted that Dimitri bathe and eat breakfast before visiting Claude. The day after the ball was customarily a free day, if only to leave the time for overindulgent partygoers to recover, so that gave them plenty of free time, not that Dimitri indulged in that time. He cleaned up as quickly as possible, threw on his least dirty set of casual clothing, and nearly jogged to the dining hall when Byleth forced him to eat breakfast. They two of them hastily swallowed whatever the cooks set in front of them, and by the end of it, Dimitri was nearly buzzing out of his skin with the anticipation of seeing Claude.

“Make haste, Professor,” he urged, turning his head every few paces to make sure that Byleth was following still. The latter didn’t seem too worried, and Dimitri admitted that he shouldn’t be either- if anything had gone horribly wrong, Manuela would have woken them in the night to tell them. Still, he wanted to see Claude with his own two eyes as soon as possible, just to be sure he would be alright.

The two of them thus crossed the monastery and climbed the steps to the second floor. Byleth waved at his father as the two of them rushed past his quarters, Jeralt looking at them go with a confused look on his face. Dimitri knocked on the infirmary door just to be polite, and then entered.

Manuela was not in the office yet, but Dimitri’s eyes immediately went to the figure on the bed, and the person next to him.

In all his gorgeous and nearly deceased glory, Claude von Riegan looked up from where he was conversing with Hilda, and gave Dimitri the most blinding smile in the world.

“Dima!” he called, waving Dimitri over and ignoring Hilda’s coo over the nickname.

“Claude!” Not wasting another second, Dimitri rushed to his bedside, and firmly grasped the hand he was offered. “Thank the Goddess you are faring well. I was not sure what I would do if I lost you last night.”

“I’m fine, it’s no big deal. It was more embarrassing than anything else, in retrospect,” Claude waved him off, patting the bed next to him. “Come on, sit down. I was just telling Hilda about the great time we had at the Goddess Tower last night.”

“We only just got to the part where he made his wish to kiss you,” Hilda giggled, flicking Claude’s arm leisurely. “Really, Claude! Why waste your wish on something like that? You should’ve wished for something more useful, like, I don’t know… To pass all your exams without ever having to study for them!”

Leaning against the wall near the door, Byleth cleared his throat pointedly to make himself known. Hilda completely ignored him. 

“Claude,” Dimitri interrupted, pursing his lips. “I must apologize, before we go on. I… I nearly killed you last night… and it was most definitely not the impression I wanted to leave on you. I meant everything that I said; you mean a lot to me, and it would kill me to lose you, too.”

“Seriously, you don’t need to apologize,” Claude huffed, patting his cheek lightly. “I’m fine, Dimitri. Professor Manuela really patched me up right. And as for the allergy, well… it was an accident. You really couldn’t have known.”

“I should have asked,” Dimitri interjected, to which Claude rolled his eyes. “You should have said something, too.”

“I had much more pressing things to think about,” Claude winked lasciviously, drawing a laugh from Hilda, and colouring Dimitri’s cheeks a familiar pink. “Plus, no offense, your Princeliness, but Fódlan food is bland as all hellfire. Traditional cuisine considers salt to be a spice. Therefore, I don’t usually think of mentioning it, because I’m pretty sure half the people on this continent think that cinnamon is just a type of tea. The head chef knows about my allergy, and Manuela knows it, and that’s about as many people as I need to involve.”

“Still… I wish there was something I could’ve done…” Dimitri mumbled under his breath, eyes downcast.

“Dimitri.” Claude’s voice dropped a tone lower, and Dimitri glanced up at the suddenly serious air around him. Claude’s gaze was resolute, and Dimitri shivered, being on the receiving end of it. “You saved my life. It doesn’t matter how it happened- what matters is that you acted fast, carried me to safety, and held me through it all. I’m grateful for that, okay? Nothing else matters.”

To that, there was nothing that Dimitri could argue, and so, they all fell silent.

Eventually, Hilda got up from the seat next to the bed.

“Alright, let’s give you two lovebirds time to wrap up this frankly disastrous evening,” she cheered, pinching Claude’s nose playfully. “Don’t mess it up this time, Claude, seriously!”

“That was hardly my fault,” Claude protested, pouting as Hilda retreated towards the door, laughing. Along the way, she collected Byleth, who silently stood with his arms crossed, fondly watching their interactions.

“Goodbye, Claude,” Hilda sang, waving him off through the doorway. “Glad you’re not dead, and all!”

“It’s good to see you doing well, Claude,” Byleth also waved at him, drawing a grin from Claude.

“Good seeing you, too, Teach. Thanks for your help last night!”

The door closed behind Byleth, and Claude let the silence settle between him and Dimitri for a few moments before attempting to restart the conversation.

“So anyway. Where we left off last night…”

“I, uhh…” Dimitri’s face flushed a bright red, indicating to Claude that they’d really come back to zero on their progress with his shyness. “I think it would be best for you to rest today, so we should save the strenuous activities for another day.”

“Strenuous activities?” Claude quoted, laughing through it. “Wow, Your Princeliness! So bold of you! I was actually going to suggest we pick up our conversation, but if that’s not what you were thinking…”

“N- No, it’s…” When Claude laughed again at his reaction, Dimitri relaxed from his tensed position, and slumped a little. “Forgive me. I am… still a little on edge.”

“Dima, I’m just teasing.” Claude’s laughter tapered off until he was only smiling fondly at Dimitri, his gaze so loving that Dimitri ducked his head away from it in embarrassment. “Hey, come on. I’ve missed you. Scoot closer, at least, won’t you?”

“Fine…” Doing as ordered, Dimitri sat close to the head of the bed, on the same level as Claude, and didn’t object when Claude held his hand, pressing it down gently into the white sheets.

“So… about that wish,” Claude started again once they had both settled. “I think I’ve figured it out now.”

“There is no point in saying it now. The legend goes that it has to be done at the Goddess Tower on the 25th of the Ethereal Moon, or else it will not be granted,” Dimitri frowned in concern.

“Come on, the Goddess was right there. She saw what happened, so I’m sure she’ll cut us some slack and consider our late wish anyway,” Claude shrugged, relieved when Dimitri let out a sigh of exasperation and smiled at him indulgently.

“Alright, then, Claude. Tell me; what is your wish this year?”

“I wish for us to never grow apart,” Claude immediately answered, not a single waver in his voice, as if he’d spent every one of his waking hours thinking about it. And the fierce simplicity of his wish was what caught Dimitri’s attention most; it wasn’t a wish expressed lightly. Instead, it was a wish borne of necessity; Claude wished it because he needed it to come true, desperately, so that they never again had to live through a night like the last one.

With that in mind, Dimitri had no choice but to tightly hold onto Claude’s hand, and agree.

“Then it is my dearest wish as well. For us to never have to grow apart.”

“I knew you’d be on board with that,” Claude tried to make light of the situation, although the heaviness behind his words didn’t quite melt away. Sensing this, Dimitri shifted, bending a leg up onto the bed so he could sit facing Claude, his free hand rising to card through his hair idly. “Dimitri, really. Thank you. For everything.”

“And the same goes for you.” Combing Claude’s hair once more, he then trailed his fingers lightly down Claude’s face, until his thumb reached the corner of his lips. There, he cradled his jaw, and felt Claude’s lips move as he smiled, a soft and sunny smile as comforting as the Almyran summers. “This... relationship we’ve fostered between us… whatever it is, I look forward to seeing it grow.”

“As do I,” Claude assured him, amused. “But I’m not really fond of fancy words, so I’m just gonna return the sentiment with ‘hey, I’m glad we’re dating’.”

“Let’s…” Dimitri trailed off pensively. “Let’s perhaps… call it courting, instead. A right middle, don’t you agree?”

“Got it,” Claude nodded. “Entry-level courting.”

To that, Dimitri just laughed. Claude watched him shut his eyes and scrunch his nose, and the sight of Dimitri’s happiness felt so radiant in that moment that it nearly stole Claude's breath away.

“So,” he hummed suggestively, wishing he could spend his lifetime watching Dimitri laugh. “Are you going to kiss me, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd? Or am I going to have to do the work myself?”

“No, let me,” Dimitri let out one last chuckle, and then leaned in. Their lips brushed, and it was just as sweet as the night before. (Or technically, less sweet, considering that Dimitri had thoroughly brushed his teeth before visiting the infirmary this morning). 

They kissed, slowly at first, to cherish the time they had together, and then more hasty, to make the most of that time. Inexorably, Dimitri’s hands found purchase on Claude’s shirt and inevitably, Claude’s hands made their home in Dimitri’s hair, lips and bodies moving in tandem like the ebb and flow of the tides to the moon. And through it all, Dimitri held Claude so tenderly, so preciously, that it became near impossible to break away.

When Claude finally did, it was only to catch his breath, and he only drew back far enough to rest his forehead against Dimitri’s.

“Time and time again, Dima, you never fail to leave me breathless,” he quipped, feeling, rather than seeing Dimitri’s lips etch an exasperated smile.

“You are not being funny, Claude,” Dimitri murmured with all the fondness in the world in the swell of his voice, and before either of them could breathe again, leaned in to kiss Claude once more.

**Author's Note:**

> >Me, noting Claude's dining hall preferences: oh look, 2/3 meals he dislikes in the dining hall are desserts, he must not like some types of sweets.  
>My lizard brain: he's allergic, kill him
> 
> So yeah, that's basically the thought process behind coming up with this fic idea. So like... if Claude had loved jesus a lil more... and kept his tongue out of dimitri's mouth.... he probably woulda lived. PSA: Carry y'alls Epipens, kids. Epipens save lives (and first dates). 
> 
> Y'all I haven't written full-on romance in so long. I'm talking years. My author soul has mellowed out into sous-entendre and implied relationship bullshit, I don't think I've written the word "kiss" in like a decade, what have I done. Dima and Claude deserve the world tho. Protective Blue Lions too. Matchmaking Byleth too. And Hilda is Claude's platonic fuckin soulmate, I will 1v1 you on this, i promise. 
> 
> And of course, Dima was right; wishes outside the Goddess Tower aren't granted, bc a few months later the world goes to shit and they both fall apart and they only meet back 5 years later in Gronder Field 2.0. I can't imagine how heartbroken Claude is at that point bc he's already mourned his beloved but no, here he is, and seeing the man he's become, Claude catches himself wondering if it's not best he died in Fhirdiad the first time. Ouch!
> 
> Okay, it's 6AM! I've been writing this since 7PM because I don't know what restraint means!! I'm gonna post and run to bed, hopefully before the sun comes out to bother me!!! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, please leave me your feedback, your fav parts, your constructive criticism, anything you wanna share. Your support really means a lot to me!
> 
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> 
> -SS


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